Want
by lady.hatter1891
Summary: Doctor Who AU Ian has a problem. He's in love with a certain blonde who only has eyes for the man who looks just like him. John has a problem. He can't even force himself to take that final leap to be with her, permanently. All they want are solutions.
1. Not Blonde Enough

Ian Noble-Smith wasn't a cruel man. He wasn't the nicest person in the world, being a bit rude in nature, but he wasn't intentionally mean when he could avoid it. Generally he tried to avoid being rude, having friends who knew him well enough to give him a swift kick if he were being unnecessarily harsh.

Sometimes, though, desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Miss Song, thank you for the very enthusiastic show of interest but I just don't feel that-"

"Oh, come on Professor Smith. You never go out, and really spending a night with _me_ really wouldn't be that bad."

Ian sighed and stopped organizing his things. Giving her side glance he had to admit that River certainly wasn't something painful to look at. Quite a pleasant picture for the eyes, actually. Blonde kinky hair, fit confident form and a great big history filled brain to boot.

But she wasn't blonde enough and her eyes weren't subtly mischievous enough. Her accent was too soft, when really, when it came down to it, he was more of a London kind of bloke.

"Professor Song, again, thank you for the show of interest, but I really can't find the time."

"You don't know what you're missing out on."

"And what on earth would that be, River?"

"Spoilers." With a soft chuckle that made him sure she had only said something so he would watch her go, she sauntered back to her office in the history department.

"Of course. Spoilers."

Ian heaved a withering sigh and walked into the damp London evening. Good old London. Sometimes he really wished he could just disappear. For a moment he paused in his trek to stare up at the stars. He never talked about it, being that his main passion was genetics, but he really did wonder if it was better up there. If all those stars were beacons promising something _more_ instead of just balls of burning gas destined to die out in a few millennia, if they hadn't already.

He was always slow on certain things. Especially things having to do with him.

"Ian, seriously, if you don't stop scowling at that pint and drink, I'll drink it for you." He jumped at the harsh voice at his ear and looked sideways.

"Sorry, Louis, I'm drinking it, really."

The young American girl snorted and took a swig from her own beer. "I still don't understand the appeal of beer off tap."

"That's because you've never had it. You decided that beer from a bottle was better than from a can and therefore best of all." Ian took a hardy draft and had to admit she was right about him needing the pint. "Cutting yourself off to a whole load of good beer with that way of thinking."

"Says you."

"Yeah, says me. And let's not forget, I'm older than you. That's many more beers in my life time than you could have possibly consumed in yours." The not blonde enough young woman opened her mouth to retaliate but relented. "That's right. Concede to my superior brain. You're a goody-two-shoes at heart and never touched a beer other than to try it before your twenty-first birthday."

"Stop showing off, Spock."

Ian chocked on his drink and joined her laughter as he watched his beer cover his shirt.

"So, she tried, again?"

Ian burst out laughing as Louis imitated River's flirting almost perfectly, even though she was a bit sloshed, herself. "Oh, Professor Smith! You enjoy genetics? Mine are quite fascinating, I should think. How about you have a private study of them, maybe I could stay up with you? We could write a thesis or two."

"Oi, Miss Song, I shall have you know that I've written many a _thesis_ on beautiful blondes and yours, in comparison, would be rather dull."

"Oh, weren't those private papers? I thought the subject was merely observed, not intimately studied?" Louis snickered at him and took a swig of her beer. "Your nickname is Handy, Ian, and there's a reason for that."

Ian sighed as he signaled for another refill. "I'm called that because I was always my brothers' right hand man, not because I masturbate." Louis quirked her brow as she popped a greasy chip into her mouth. "You can just wipe that look off of your face, girlie, I'm not admitting anything."

"My thinks the lad doth protest too much."

"Oi, I haven't been a lad in nearly twenty years."

Louis snickered and focused on her chips for a minute. Ian watched as she looked at him from the side, like he didn't notice. Eventually he couldn't take the subtle sadness lurking behind her usually bright eyes.

"I'm not him. We're two completely different people. You know that."

"And yet so very similar." She finished off her beer and stopped the bartender from opening another one. "I'm not saying I think you could be the same person or that one could replace the other. Just sometimes, when I squint really hard, and don't really look at you, just kind of about you, I can imagine you're happy. I can also imagine you're the only you running around London."

"Wouldn't that just solve everything?" Ian signaled the bartender over, intending to order another pint, before familiar voices calling to the two of them dampened those plans. One of voices sounded a lot like his. "It would solve absolutely everything."

Louis was a stiff girl with a fixed scowl beside him. Not moving and not at all pleased with the current situation.

"Ian, Louis! Fancy finding you lot here. Martha, Jack, Donna and I were just stopping in for a pint and some chips. How serendipitous."

"Yes, very." Louis finally found her voice and turned on her stool, toned and tanned legs crossed enticingly. Even Ian could admit she was a fine specimen of what human genetics could come together to achieve. "Hello, Dear John."

John instantly deflated and Ian hated to admit it, but he did enjoy the forlorn look on his face as her words hit home.

"Well, Anna-Banana, haven't seen you lurking about for a while. Been away? And so tan! Didn't think your kind could do that."

Louis sneered at Jack before artfully disembarking from her perch. She legs extended just enough to have most men, and a few women, staring as she strutted passed the four. Even over the noise Ian could hear her small chucks padding out of the building and into the cool night air.

"Well, that went well."

"Ian, really, why do you entertain her?"

Ian raised a brow at his twin as finished paying the tab, hers and his. "I don't entertain her, I enjoy her. There's a difference."

"Skinny Boys. Leave it." Donna shoved passed and gave and Ian a warm hug. "I haven't seen the two of you get along in the same room in two years. Could you at least attempt to pretend that you like your family?"

Ian gave Donna a warm smile and squeezed her shoulders. "Oi, I enjoy my family. How could I not? Speaking of! Has anyone heard from Matt lately?"

"Yes, I have. Should be home soon."

Ian looked over at John and the two shared a look before nodding. "See you, then."

"Hey, don't leave. We just got here. Let's all sit down and have a pint, like the old days." Martha looked so naively hopeful Ian couldn't but feel bad as he just kept right on walking out the exit. "Well, that's a fine how-do-you-do."

John sighed as watched Ian disappear through the door. "Well, things are still a bit raw, I guess."

"Can you blame him for being a bit singed after the right harsh burn you served him." Donna scowled at her younger brother. "Really, not well handled, Johnny boy."

John grumbled as Jack offered up an expression similar to Donna's. Martha just looked lost as she ordered a round and some chips. No help from her, then.

"I know I didn't handle things well, but, damn it, I loved her, too. She approached me and I took my chance. We're a bit rude, he and I. To be honest, I can't understand why we thought that silly idea of ours would work, given our history."

"Okay, I really think it's time someone gave it to me straight, 'cause I'm sick of being lost."

Jack scratched the back his neck and Donna shot John a pointed look. "Me? Why me?"

"Cause out of the three people at this table who know what happened, you know the most. So, get on with Skinny Boy!"

"All right, fine." The waitress placed a pint in front of him and he took a healthy draft. "So, Martha, you know that we aren't from London, right?"

"Yeah, you moved here from Chiswick for school."

"Exactly, well, a few years ago while Ian and I were finishing school, we met this couple. Mickey Smith and Rose Tyler. Lovely couple really, but what was even more lovely was the Rose Tyler side of it all. Oh, she was brilliant, Martha. Hadn't finished school, but she really was extremely brilliant."

"Good thing I got over that crush I had on you, otherwise I might be injured by all this."

John stopped mid word and sent her a look. She just smiled, pleasant as ever, and signaled for him to continue. She had a habit of being incredibly cheeky sometimes.

"Anyway, it didn't take long for both and Ian and I to realize that we had developed similar feelings for her. When she was with Mickey, the situation was easy to deal with. She wasn't available and that was that."

"Yeah, it was when her and Mickey broke up that it turned into a whole different ball game. I was juggling drunk phone calls about miss Rose at all hours of the night. I know Shakespeare only 'cause they both quoted him repeatedly when talking about her."

"Jack, I'm telling the story here." Jack chuckled and occupied his mouth with chips and beer. "Like Jack said, things changed when she and Mickey called it quits. Ian and I had to rework our game plan. We decided that not acting on our feelings would be the best bet, so, that's the plan we went with."

"Oh, I do not see this ending well."

"It didn't. I ended up spending more time with her than I should have. We started flirting all the time and I could see that things were coming to a head but I couldn't stop. I was addicted. Her smiles, her laugh, her big brown eyes were all so enchanting. Well, one night we were sitting in my flat, sharing chips and watching a movie and the light was shining off her blonde hair just right. I was holding my own pretty well but she leaned on my shoulder and sort of snuggled. I saw an opportunity and I took it. She didn't push me away, and things went their natural course."

"The next day, though, Ian seemed to just know. It wasn't like things could've been different. She never gave him a second glance. Her interest was clearly solely in me. But, I do admit that I didn't handle things well after that. We dated for nearly a year before we decided to share my flat. While that was going on, Jack's cousin Louisiana moved here from Utah to attend school. She and Louis met and he started changing over the two years that followed. Not in a big in need of intervention sort of way, but it started to become obvious how different we really are.

"About a year ago, Ian and Louis, as he calls her, came to this very pub. Rose was here with a few girlfriends but they had to duck out early. One had a babysitter waiting for her at home and the other was having her weekly relationship crisis. Louis and Rose got on well enough, and Ian had had a few pints by that point so he wasn't sulking."

"Let me guess, Rose joined them for a few too many drinks and she and Ian slept together in a drunken daze."

"Almost! Good guessing, Ms. Jones. No, Rose had enough that she couldn't see the difference between Ian and John, and Ian had had enough that he couldn't either. They were snogging in the hall way by the pay phone when Ian's gob started up. He talked about everything, and Rose started getting a clear head. When she finally worked it all out, she left before Ian could figure what was going on. She stayed with her friend Shareen for a few days before she packed up her things, left John a note in the flat and went to stay with her mother and stepfather in Brighton."

John took a deep draft of his pint while Jack finished up telling the story.

"Okay. Oh, I see it! It all lines up. So that _was_ your "I just made it with a girl" face that day. You lying stinker." Martha laughed as she filled up her glass from the pitcher they had at the table. "So, you went behind your brother's back and flirted and pursued a woman you had both agreed to keep your hands off of. That's brilliant, John. Real stand up and gentlemanly of you, there."

John sighed and picked at the chips before finally popping one into his mouth.

"Yeah, well, we won't let him forget so I should hope he knows all that already. Space boy here has been trying to distract himself with work and woman. Even knocked boots with that River Song character in the history department. "

"Wait, isn't she trying to make it with Ian?"

"Yeah, she's had one and now she wants to complete the set." Martha groaned rubbed her forehead. "I know the feeling."

"Really? What I have done to her now?" The other three turned to John and watched as tossed his phone onto the table. "Oh, don't give me those looks. You know who I'm talking about."

"You and Louis haven't gotten on in close to a year. Give it up, Doc." Jack filled his cup and laughed. "Looks like she's one blonde that prefers the other twin."

John grumbled and snapped his phone open before it could finish informing him he'd received a text. "Oh, there's hope! She's not staying at her and Ian's flat tonight. She's actually on her way back here. Why's she on her way back here?"

He looked to Jack who held his hands up. "I don't know anything about her anymore. We haven't been kids in a longtime and we haven't been close for even longer."

John sighed and snapped his phone shut. "I get no help from anyone. So, Martha, how are things at the hospital?"

Louis stood outside the pub. Really it reminded her much of St. Elmo's fire. It was a place where you sit in your pain and childlike situations until life finally pushing you away from it. She'd walked out of here with a head held once that night. Now she was walking back in to be handed her shame by large long hands.

Sighing she opened the door and walked over to the usual table.

"Any room for one more?"

"Hey, Lou! Of course."

Louis watched as John stole a seat from a nearby table and sat it too close to his for her comfort. "Thank you, John." She moved the seat to the side, closer to Donna, before easing into it. "So, I have "Hello, I Love You" by the Doors stuck in my head. Again."

John snorted and pulled her seat right up next to his. "When do you not have that song stuck in that frizzy little not so blonde head of yours?"

Louis' eyes widened slightly as he slung his leg over the other so their knees brushed put his arm over the back of her chair. "Um, John, I have this thing. It's called personal space. I would really like it if you got out of mine."

He seemed to deflate for a minute before a wolfish grin spread across his face. "Place like this? Full as it is? Whether it's me or someone else, you're gonna have someone in your personal space. Personally, I'd rather it be me. I know what I'm gonna do, don't know what someone else will."

Louis sighed and turned to Donna, engaging her in a conversation about her current temp job. Jack bowed out shortly after Louis' arrival, saying he had an early morning and Martha decided she'd poisoned her liver enough for one night. Donna left soon after and Louis took the advantage of open seating to move away from John.

"Hold on a tick. Why so far away?"

John was nearly gone. He'd been keeping his liquor intake steady most of the night. "You're not in your right mind, John. I've been in this situation with you before. You may be right, and this pub may be too full to really have any personal space, but given the choice between you and someone else, I'll take my chances with someone else. I have an idea of what you may do, and that's less appealing than what anyone else might."

"Oh, but this is different! I have this brilliant plan." Louis rubbed her eyes. "I'm trying to get you so drunk that you won't care, 'cause I'm so drunk that I don't."

"That's a plan, John, but it's not brilliant."

"Yes, it is. I'm brilliant and it's my plan, so therefore, it's a brilliant plan."

Louis watched John talked animatedly from across the small table. The man she'd been in love with for nearly a year and a half. She'd made a decision to siphon him out of her life and was going to pull herself from the whole group before Ian had confided his secret in her. Really, looking back she knew it sounded harsh, but she'd done harsher things in the name of self-preservation. Having Ian there going through the same thing made it easier, though.

Louis knew she never really had a shot. She was short with frizzy hair and just wasn't blonde enough. She was fit, but wasn't the right build and had the wrong complexion. Really, she wasn't unattractive; she just wasn't the right kind of attractive for him.

"What say you to going to home, John?"

He stopped his rambling about dead planets and looked over at her, a smile nearly ripping his face in half. "I told you it was a brilliant plan."

"Yes, you did, John. Because you're brilliant and it was your plan."

John leaned on her throughout the cab ride to his flat and she supported him on the way in. As soon as she got to the couch, though, she shoved him into the general direction and left. He was almost out, anyway, no sense in her sticking around.

She dropped the set of keys she'd nicked off of him onto the side table as she entered the flat she Ian shared a few streets over. Her keys were tossed unceremoniously back into her over stuffed bag. The flat was dark except for the TV Ian had on in the living room.

One difference between Ian and John, John slept when he'd had too much. Ian couldn't sleep a wink even if you killed him. From the amount of empty beer cans that littered the coffee table, though, he just might be dead in the morning.

She sighed and mumbled a good night before shuffling to her room.

Jack had been friends with the boys for years now, his mother having left his father when he was twelve and deciding it was time to go home to good old England. He was sent from London to Chiswick and back, again, as he went from his mother's home in London to spend weekends and some holidays with his grandparents.

She'd been sent to Chiswick the summer she turned sixteen. She'd decided to bleach her hair that summer, since no one there had known her, and figured it'd be a bit of fun. The boys were back from school for the holiday and she'd stayed clear of them. Last thing she wanted was to mooch of Jack and his friends for companionship. Still, though, she watched and listened and eventually they all hit it off.

Summer ended, though, and her hair darkened. She forgot about the boys and the fun and flirting.

At her mother's urging to get out of Utah, she moved to London after graduation and began working toward an accounting degree, and was due to graduate next year. She even had a few job possibilities lined up for after.

Life in London had been a bit dull when she'd arrived, then Aunt Cindy stepped in and forced Jack into meeting her for a drink. He'd felt it necessary to bring moral support and she was reintroduced to the Smith twins. They were different, though. The twins she had recalled had almost been the same person. The two men that stood in front of her could have only been more different by not sharing the same face.

As time passed she and Ian rekindled their friendship and John played along, figuring that by association they were friends, too. Truth was, though, Louis was a little attracted to John, but he was with Rose. Eventually, she couldn't handle it anymore and called her faux friendship with John off. Wasn't really working anyway.

For a time she just stopped coming around. Her and Jack had never reconnected, and she and Rose only mildly got along. Donna got along with any and every one, and she and Martha had never been properly introduced.

A month after exile, though, Ian showed up on her door step with a suitcase and two different kinds of beer, bottles for her and cans for him. She let him in and they talked most of night. He moved into her spare room and they'd been flat mates ever since.

"So, how'd your night go?" She blinked into the brightly lit kitchen, mumbling, and prepared her coffee. "That bad, huh?"

Louis held up her finger as she took in a healthy dose of French Roast. When she had downed half of it she removed the mug from her lips with a sigh. Usual routine showed that she always needed coffee before she was functional, but it was generally just a sip and she was off like a fire cracker.

"Your brother's an ass."

John sneezed as he stumbled into his office.

"Dr. Smith! You having allergy problems? You look a bit out of it."

John sighed as he watched River lean against his door frame.

"Not the season for allergies. Not that I have allergies."

River smiled and moved to sit on the edge of his desk. "Well, isn't that something! I love finding out things about you. And I would love to continue my education on the subject but, first, tell me about your brother."

"Matt is in America studying a cluster of asteroids."

"Oh, no, not him. Bit too young for my tastes."

"You mean he's in America and therefore unattainable at the moment."

"Yes. Now, tell me about Ian." She leaned forward, her shirt unbuttoned a little more than usual. "I know you and I was just a random thing brought on by too many spirits at a staff Christmas party, but I think he and I might have something. What with him not being hung up over some ex-girlfriend."

"Nope, he's hung up."

"On an ex-girlfriend?"

"On the ex-girlfriend."

River leant back in surprise. "You shared her? Well, there's a twist. Usually it's the other way around, in my experience."

"No, he was in love with her as well." John's eyes squinted as he regarded River. "What do you mean in your experience?"

"Long story. Spoilers. No time. So," she tried being alluring, again. "When is Matt returning?"

John chuckled as began going through graded papers. "You move along quick."

"I know when there's no hope."

John smiled and kissed her cheek. "Move along, Song."

"Fine. Keep your secrets. I'll find him and you won't be able to stop what follows."

John laughed out right as he heard the click of her heels die. He looked down the hall once more before he began readying the lecture hall for his 10 o'clock class.

"So, are you ready for the masses?"

John looked up and couldn't help the small smile that crossed face. Ian returned the gestured and strutted into the room.

"Mine is Thursdays, at 11. There are so many females in the room I can barely even think." Ian picked up the paper weight off his brother's desk and began shifting it between his hands. "Entry level courses. They are the bane of all young _and_ attractive professors. Sorry, doctors."

John laughed and joined Ian at his desk. "Been a while since we've talked like this, without the group. You have a class today, then?"

"Yeah, 10:30. Yours is at 10, right? In about half an hour, yeah?"

John sighed heavily through his nose, looked over the large hall. "Are we ever going to be the same?"

"I think, if we ever could, this would be the time. I don't like it, but I think that, by leaving, Rose was trying to give us a chance to get sorted."

"Well, that might have been it, a bit, but it wasn't the only reason." John pinched the bridge of his nose as he considered how to continue. "Another reason may have been the tiny-itsy-bitsy issue of me not wanting to get married."

Ian laughed and continued until he saw John's pained expression. "Seriously? You wouldn't marry Rose? What on Earth would stop you? It's Rose, for Christ's sake!"

"I know, I know! I tried to figure it out, and I'm still trying. Tried to force myself, but I'm worse than dad, and I just can't. It's like it's written in my genetic code to not want to get married. Run from the very idea, even. How does dad get women, anyway?"

Ian snorted and bumped John's shoulder. "How do you?"

"Point."

Ian glanced to the side as giggling girls began to filter through the door. "I think this is where I leave you to your suffering."

John groaned and shoved him, hard, toward the door. "Off with you, then."

Ian shuffled back toward his office. It made his heart hurt, a little more possibly, when his brother and he got along. It made when they didn't so much more confusing.

"Wait, Ian!" He turned and saw John jogging toward him. "Dear god, you wouldn't know I was a runner in school, looking at me now. Anyway, ignore that. The point! Let's get lunch, yeah?"

"I already have plans. With a mate of mine. Jake's his name. We're meeting up."

"Short, blonde, spiky-uppy hair? Face kind of like a reptile? I like him! I'll just join the two of you. That all right? Good. We'll head out around noonish? I've only got an exam planned today, and, to be honest, I'd end early even if I didn't. Major hangover and I woke up alone. Means either you or Louis took me home. And since she came back to the pub after you both left, I'm gonna take a shot and say it was her. Weelll, gotta dash. See you at noon. Ish."

Ian sighed as he watched his brother enter the lecture hall once more.

"Why so glum, you?"

Ian lifted his head and saw an impossible blonde lounging at his desk.

"What?" He looked over his shoulder and slipped a bit. "What?" The door was quickly closed and locked. "_What?_"


	2. Not Friends Not Friendly Then What?

There were a few things that Louis knew were forever going to be constants in this universe. They were simple things that anyone could catch onto if they were watching. Things like Martha would always be a little bit in love with John, Jack would always be thoroughly in love with the Smith twins, and she would forever be "not blonde enough."

Another, less obvious thing, though, would be that sleeping with one of your flat mate's best friends, simply because he got on well with said flat mate's brother, was not a good idea. Or maybe that was one of the glaringly obvious ones. Sometimes she got the two mixed up when she hadn't had enough sleep, or caffeine.

"So, to clarify, just in case of the off chance that I'm reading your signals wrong, this meant nothing."

Louis paused in her fruitless search for a clean shirt. "Um, well, no. Sorry. Bit like Jack sometimes with this sort of thing." She watched his eyes lose some of their playful light. Hastily, she amended her statement. "That came out wrong, I swear. That's not entirely what I meant. I don't go around sleeping with anything that breathes, I swear. I wasn't even planning on doing this with you. In fact, I've only slept a few people since high school."

"Oh, so, when you say you're a bit like Jack, what do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean, my emotions aren't tied to sex, or physical contact. Sure, I need it like a drug, contact, I mean, not sex. But, I don't get attached or use it to show my emotions like others do. I tried making love once, thinking maybe it could save a failing relationship."

"How long ago was that?"

"High school. Final year."

"And how did that go?"

"It didn't end well. At least, not for me anyway. But! I did learn two good things from the experience. One: I should never try to mix emotions and sex." Louis exclaimed her triumph when she found a suitable smelling shirt near the back of her wardrobe. "And, two: I'm no good with relationships and shouldn't have them. So, I haven't had one since."

"No dates? Since your final year of high school?" Jake watched as she bobbed her head while trying to smooth out her eyeliner. "Well, how lucky should I feel when you say you've only slept with a few blokes?"

"There was an old flame at his college graduation party and a mystery man about a little more than year ago. That's it. I mean, if you want me to be a bad guy, you can count the old flame as two since I slept with him, again, last year when I went home for holiday."

She heard Jake sniff as he tried to hold onto his righteous indignation, but could feel it slip away as she danced around her room getting dressed. "Fine, I'll let it slide, but if it happens, again, we'll have words."

Louis smirked and quirked her brow suggestively as he watched her from the bed. "Harsh words?"

"Very."

"Well, then, I should tell you I have a flight home scheduled at the end of next month."

Louis made sure her shirt landed somewhere she could find it again later. Laundry was definitely on her list of things to do when Jake finally got around to leaving. Not that she was in a rush, really.

John sighed as he gathered up his things for the day. He'd been stood up by not only his brother, but Jake, as well, when lunch rolled around. He never interacted with the other staff because at times he voiced his thoughts on their mental capacities, and that was rude. Jack, Martha and Donna were all busy little bees, working "actual jobs" as they constantly reminded him. In short, he was thoroughly out of ideas on how to entertain himself.

Giving up he pulled out the exams he'd administered and decided to get the torture of grading them over with. If he had to do it, he should probably do it on campus where he could easily imagine he was doing it because he wanted to, and not because his friends were otherwise engaged. His flat had a nasty habit of feeling empty lately. Traitor. He was knee deep in red marks when the confident knock rang through his office.

"It's open, River."

"Thanks, but I'm not Professor Snog."

John looked up to see Louis leaning against his door frame. She was wearing her usual brown coat that ate her whole with her jeans and biker boots just peeking out from underneath. Well, it wasn't that long. Really, it ended just passed mid-thigh. He could see a bit of skin winking at him through a rip in her jeans.

"Well, that is a horrible mistake. And her name is Song." He smirked when she shrugged and shuffled into his office. "What are you doing here? I would have thought that after last night you would be steering clear of me for a few days. That's the reoccurring pattern, at least."

"I thought about it. Then I had a good row with Jake and I'm not feeling so snarky anymore." John held back a harsh laugh. He was sure she could see him straining to keep it in. She was horribly observant sometimes. "That's actually why I'm here. He's got work tonight. Some special ops thingy. You know he works for the London branch of Torchwood, that high level security something or other that Pete Tyler runs. Oh, and Ian's skipped town for a few days."

John's pen slipped and caused a large line to run across the exam he was grading. "Ooh, that bad?"

"Um," John looked over the page quickly. "No, this one was actually mostly decent. Damn it."

Louis laughed and pulled the paper from him. "Where's the grading rubric? I'll help. This stack looks hefty."

John sighed and searched through his piles. "I normally don't have one, you know. There was an incident with a student, though, where they didn't believe that they were completely thick, and the headmaster came down on me."

Louis coughed and stole half the stack. "That's horrible, John, really. I feel your pain. How dare someone not understand Physics?"

"You don't like it, do you?"

Louis paused and ran her tongue over her lower lip. "Um, no, not really. It's just that I need more help with it then I would like. Sciencey type subjects were never my best subjects."

"And what was? Writing? Art? Physical fitness?" John watched as she went back to her work. "You know, I really don't know much about you."

"That's cause we aren't friends, John." She tossed a finished exam onto his desk and went right on to the next one, missing how far his expression had dropped.

"You're here. You're helping me grade these dreadful exams." He tried to go back to what he was doing but threw the paper down in frustration. "What do you mean we aren't friends? How aren't we friends? I've been going mad for months wondering what I've done to you. Trying to figure out how I'd offended you. And now, after I'm beginning to think we're on the mend, you're telling me you don't think we're friends?"

"I don't think we're not friends, John. I know it for a fact." She looked up at him and readjusted to take off her horrid coat and lean her chair back onto two legs. "I mean, sure, we're friendly, but we aren't friends, John. Friends share chips, go down to pub and joke and sit at home watching horrible b-rated films for the hell of it. They spend time together _and_ simply let pass while in each other's company."

John fell silent, feeling somewhat defeated and winded. She was right. When was the last time they had just sat and had a beer without him getting completely smashed and trying to seduce her? Had they ever done any of the things she'd listed? Not that he could recall. Even with his vast knowledge of most things, he couldn't recall one time where they had even been comfortable with each other.

"You lick the corner of your mouth when you're thinking."

Her pen stopped and she looked up at him through her the short layer of her that had fallen over her eyes. "What?"

John plowed through, hoping, for once, that he had thrown her off balance. "You say we aren't friends, but I say we are. Friends know things about each other. I know things about you, like how you wet your lower lip when you're thinking."

"I thought I licked the corner of my mouth."

"You do both."

She was quiet for a moment before she set her stack on his desk and began putting her coat back on. "That's not something you know through being someone's friend, John. That's an observation and you can make those no matter your relationship with a person. You're surrounded by friends. How can you not know the difference?"

With that she left his room, not in a huff but a little bit more like she'd been winded. John quickly followed her, hoping to talk sense into her before they reached the doors. With the leisurely pace she looked to be keeping, he began to think that maybe it was one thing he could accomplish today.

"What are you going on about? Friends make observations all the time. How are we not friends?"

"What are my favorite TV shows? What's a guilty pleasure of mine? Who's my favorite author?" John floundered for a moment. "Am I geek? Do I prefer spending a day at the shopping centers? Or would I rather be at home watching Pride and Prejudice or some frilly romance drivel like that?"

"Um, well, that is..." So much for throwing _her_ off balance.

"Okay, what's my favorite colour?" She gave him a hopeful look before scoffing at his guilty expression. "Hell, John, do I smoke?"

"I should hope not."

She stopped walking to stare at him. "You know what? I honestly can't understand why I'm being this immature. I knew the score when I came here tonight." John looked at her with lost eyes. "Come on, let's finish those tests and go to pub. After that we can shove you in a taxi. It'll be just like old times."

"Can people who are just friendly have old times?"

"Yes. Those are the times when you pretend you can remember that you were friends at one point." She closed the door to his office behind her. "You know, what you do all the time, apparently."

John sent her a meager glare as he dropped into his desk chair. That's when he noticed her shirt as she removed her coat for the second time in his presence. A smirk broke out across his face.

"You're a geek."

She followed his line of sight, a blush reddening her nose as she snorted. "Would you believe this was a gift from my mother?"

He chuckled as he read over the words that were printed across her chest, again. It seemed so perfect for her for some reason. A nagging began at the back of his brain, though. Like he had missed something important, or had, at least, missed something somewhat big.

"I have a bad case of Pon Farr… And you're the cure." John scrunched up his face in thought; the phrase seemed to be the key. "That's Star Trek? Pon Farr is that thing where you have to mate or you'll die, right?"

He was silent for a moment before he ran his hand through his hair. "Why does that make me feel all weird? I feel like I'm missing something. What is it?"

"Give it a minute."

He ran over the possibilities in his head when something she'd said early finally came to mind. "You had a good row with Jake. You made it with Jake? What on Earth or any other planet the vast systems of the universe would make you do that?"

She moved to her seat and plopped down with a huff. Honestly, though, he was a bit impressed. He'd never thought you could actually "plop" into a seat, and she'd just proved him wrong. She was doing that a lot tonight.

When he'd finally caught on that she wasn't going to tell him, he grumbled into the paper in his hands. It made no sense. She'd denied him time after time, but Jake comes out of nowhere and she just jumps right on in. Was there something wrong with him? Was he unappealing? Did she not like his cologne? Was she just tolerating him in case the day came when Ian and he were back on good terms?

Finally, when he'd sniffed, for the fifth time in the last hour, she gave a subtle cry of annoyance. "It really doesn't matter, does it? He was there when I was feeling the urge. I don't normally act on it, but today I thought "What the hell? I could go for that." So, I did, and it wasn't horrible."

"Does he know that's how you see it?"

"Yes, he does. We had a decent conversation over the matter. Don't you worry your spiky-uppy head none. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself, thank you." She went back to grading the papers in her lap before continuing. "And, really, it's none of your business. I can screw anyone I want and you can't do anything about it. Nor do you have any say on the matter. We aren't friends, John. Remember?"

John tossed his pen across the room. "Then why are you here?"

Louis slammed her chair down onto the floor. "Because, I thought we could at least manage friendly, but what was I hoping for? That you would, for once, not have to be right? Not have to push things until the opposing team conceded defeat? Guess what, John. It doesn't work that way. I was hoping we could maybe keep each other company for a while, but I can see that's not even a possibility. Enjoy your grading, Doc."

John watched silently as she stormed out, for what thoroughly appeared to be the last time. He considered, for a moment, going after her, again, but gave up that idea rather quickly. He was likely to lose his head or some other rather valuable appendage if he did. Considering his options, he went with the one that seemed, unfortunately, the one to most likely benefit him.

Satchel over his shoulder, he gave a small cry of triumph when he found River still on campus, as well. She seemed rather occupied with logging new items into the history department's inventory, but, really, when did he let that bother him? It never seemed to warn her away from trying to distract him. Revenge being a dish best served cold and all that. Might as well get his before they moved completely into spring.

"Professor Song, look at you! Could it be that you are actually working and not off chasing down some poor unsuspecting staff member?" River looked up at him and sent him a distracted acknowledgement. "All teasing aside, maybe, I need some advice."

River nearly dropped the pottery she'd been examining. "Seriously? Doctor John Smith needs my assistance in something? What's today's date? I want to compare it with the Mayan calendar. This could be the event those brilliant natives had predicted."

John coughed. "Maybe I should stop trying to one up the women in my life. It doesn't seem to be something I can accomplish at the moment. Oh, get that smirk off your face."

River's brow furrowed at his tone. "What's wrong, John. You haven't been this upset in months. I mean, this is nothing compared to how you were when- Well, you know what I mean. Probably shouldn't say it."

"No, it doesn't need saying, does it?" John walked over to her and pulled up a stool. "I just, well. I'm not really sure how to go about this."

"Maybe you should start from the beginning." River watched him roll his eyes. "I mean, that's usually a good place."

"And you're smirking, again. Keep that up and I'm going to begin to wonder if that's your primary expression."

"Oh, it is. Especially when I have you flustered. My mirth is never ending on days like this."

"Well, it's not you that's got me flustered. At least, not just you. Not mostly you." He readjusted himself and leaned onto work bench in front of him, making sure to avoid anything old looking. "There's this girl, Louis. I first met her when I was about 27."

"So young! And how old was she? Is she insanely blonde? I know you _fancy_ blondes."

"She somewhat blonde, but not quite blonde enough." John scratched his head as he ran his hand through his hair. "I'm not sure how old she was."

"Well, how old is she now? We'll just do some simply arithmetic."

"Um-"

"Good God, John, why are you even bothering pretending? Leave the girl to get on with her life; it'll be better for both of you."

"Could you possibly hear me out before you get all angry face?" She signaled for him to continue as she went back to examining the artifact in her hands. "Louis was young, and that's all I remember as far as her age goes. Either way, she'd been sent to her grandparents for the summer and she kept to herself for the first few weeks she was there. I caught her watching us though, not in a creepy stalking you around a corner sort of way, but if she passed an open door she would just kind of watch before continuing on her way.

"Come to find out later that it was caused by a nurtured aversion to intruding on family members and their friends. Her father, the Harkness of her family, in true male Harkness fashion, went from lover to lover, so she had a few siblings. Anyway, Ian and I felt- Well Ian was always a little more outspoken with his inner musings. So, really, he spearheaded the whole affair. I just-"

"John, the track? You've fallen off it."

"Yeah that got away from me there. The point is that Ian pushed Jack and me to be proactive about extending the hand of friendship. It turned out to be a good idea. She was great fun. Jack had a habit of feeling put out, but other than that it was a fine summer. After it was over, though, it was really over. She didn't come back the next year, much to Jack's pleasure. Ian and I didn't really take it too hard either, we had met Rose and Mickey by that point and you can figure how that would effect things."

"You completely forgot about her until after she moved here and Ian reminded you, didn't you?"

"Well, no, not exactly. Jack reminded me. Inadvertently, really. He was complaining, drunkenly, the night we went to meet her. His mother insisted. Something about being the bigger people, or some other weird saying. Either way, we didn't really connect but she and Ian hit right off. I was already with Rose at the time, so I suppose I just didn't care." River laughed so hard, John was sure he heard a small snort. "I know, I know. I think that's it."

"Really? How about after Rose left you and you went on that sex binge. Was she one of the participants of that escapade?"

"Um, no. She managed to somehow always keep clear of those situations."

"-" River stared at him for a moment before laughing, again. "You look so confused! Oh, I like her. I think I'll get her a present."

"Has anyone ever told you, you're a horrible person?" She snickered a little. "Fine, anyway, no. I didn't sleep with her. She denies me every time, without fail. But! She'll jump on in with Jake Simmonds. Who she's maybe met three times."

"Bitter, John?"

John mulled over the audacity of the situation for a while. To those outside of his person, he was certain it looked like sulking, but it wasn't. Really.

"John."

"What?"

"You _are_ sulking, no matter what you tell yourself."

John voiced his aggravation and jumped from his stool. "I just don't understand why I can't let it go. She's not anything brilliant, really. Her hairs barely blonde, and far too frizzy, I have to say. She has freckles, and lots of them. She's short, oh, so short. And! If you leave her to her own devices, there is no proper excuse for the things she does."

"Like you?" John stopped in his pacing and glared at River. "I'm just saying, John, that I'm sure you remember the toaster I used to have in my office before you tinkered with it. The parts of that sentence you should pay attention to would be "the toaster I used to have," and "before you."

John scoffed and began ranting, again. River let him continue for a time, choosing to instead focus on her artifacts. It became too tiresome, he supposed, and she final voiced her opinion.

"You know why you can't let this go? Because she said "no," and she continues to, and you can't take it. Rose didn't even say "no" the second time around. And it is eating you up inside, cause you can't figure out why. "Why would anyone turn me down? Look at me."

River struck as ridiculous a pose as she could manage while sitting on a stool. "I do not look like that. Or think like that. Or talk like that!"

"Oh, please, you Smiths are all the same. You all have egos big enough that were someone with clinical depression able to siphon off just a meager fraction of it they would immediately become so confident and self-assured it would give the medical field whiplash."

John scowled and looked at the wall as he scratched his head. "Is that really what this is? A case of wounded pride? Cause, I don't like it River. It's like I have this thing in my head, this dark heavy thing, that says "you suck, you can't even get a Harkness to sleep with you." And when she's in the room all I can focus on is trying to fix whatever it is that's broken in the situation."

"Nothing is broken, John. Every man suffers wounded pride here and there. You'll bounce back." River stopped in her labeling and turned to glare at him. "I would also like to state that the fact that she is a Harkness has nothing to do with whether sleeping with her would be easy or not. Just because Jack doesn't seem to put much stock in picking and choosing doesn't mean she fallows the same practice. Honestly, I would have thought you of all people would know that just cause because you're family doesn't mean you're alike."

John pouted and lowered his head. "Fine. You're right." He grumbled a little before running his hands through his hair. "So, how do I fix this problem?"

"Well, you can try successfully seducing her. Maybe find someone who actually has "game". Or, pointers from Jake since he seems to have wooing skills you don't." John took the pause she caused by her snickering to mock her. "Or, try being friends with her. Gaining that friendly familiarity should help in staving off those sexual urges."

"Oh, that never works."

"Sure it does. I'm living proof that it works." At his questioning gaze her all too familiar smirk graced her face. "I'm friends with you."


	3. It's A Bit Complicated, That

A/N: Due to the suggestion by a reader, and the content of the story I have changed this story to 10th Doctor and 10th Doctor Duplicate. Rose is in this story, as more than just a nod or plot devise. Her role will develop and I hope you, as readers and Doctor Who fans, will enjoy it. Read on!

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><p>Louis lounged happily across the warn leather couch in her living room. A content sigh filled the otherwise silent flat. Time alone was rare, since Ian spent much of his time either grading papers or preparing for a class, and she was either working or doing something involving school.<p>

Time alone was so very welcome.

It meant that she could wear minimal clothing and turn up the heat. She could pull out her cooler and fill it with bottles of beer. She could pull out her secret stash of romantic movies and not feel worried about Ian poking fun at her girlie side showing through her roughish and somewhat boyish exterior.

She was in the process of taking full advantage of that freedom when an insistent pounding at the door made a groan of frustration expel from her chip filled mouth. She put her chips down on the table and began the process of becoming presentable to open the door. With her utter lack of care at the moment, though, that involved pulling on a pair loose warn sweats and zipping a hoodie over her sports bra. Her only intention was sending the poor soul on its way, so attire didn't really matter.

The banging resumed when whoever it was thought she was taking too long. To be honest she'd been distracted by the movie she'd had going. A huff and tiny foot stomp later, the movie was paused and the door flung open. She expelled a cry of aggravation and attempted to close the door on her visitor's face.

John was having none of that. "Oh, really, Louis. Let's not be immature about this. I've given you your standard two days to be childish, now grow up and invite me in."

"Oh, no. You stepped in it this time, John. I don't want to see you, ever. I don't want to hear from you. I don't want here _about _you. Understand?" She tried to close the door, again, but he shoved it back and pushed into the flat. "Seriously? You're trespassing, now. So, get out. Don't make this into a domestic."

"I'm not the one turning it into a domestic. You are. Besides, it's not trespassing. I have a key and this is half my brother's flat."

"Yeah, and it's half mine. Ian is out of town and that key was given to you for emergencies only. So, I'll say it, again, you're trespassing and I want you out."

"Yeah, well, that's all well and good but I want you, so," John tugged at his ear and huffed. "Where does that leave us? Cause I can't figure it out."

Louis shifted from foot to foot for a moment before grumbling and guiding him into the kitchen. She waved him toward a seat and began pulling out things for tea and coffee. She knew he, like Ian, preferred tea when aggravated but she really needed a good cup of Joe. Her back didn't relax until she heard the familiar bubble and hiss of the water heating from the coffee maker.

She looked over shoulder to see John staring at a cabinet off to the side. He was tense as well, strung up and wrung out. She licked her lip and mulled over how to defuse this situation. If things went the way she had a feeling they were going, John in a good mood was in the best interest for all parties involved. That decided she sneakily pulled out her phone and began going through her contact list, picking out the most suitable candidates and preparing a mass text for if she couldn't find an alternative solution.

Once the tea was ready, she placed a cup before him and some fixings, not sure how he would like it. Ian liked a little sugar and a lot of milk, but he and John were two completely different animals at times. She stared at her cup for a moment before steeling herself and sitting across from him at the small table. They sat in silence for a time before the nervous hum ringing in her ears became too much to bare.

"What are you doing here, John?"

"I already told you."

Louis scowled down at the table. "You want Rose. I'm not blonde enough to even act as temporary replacement, so, I'm gonna ask you, again; what are you doing here?"

"I don't really know. I want you, but I don't. It's all very confusing." He took a sip of his tea before continuing. "I just can't figure it out. Why do I want you? You've said it yourself; you aren't anywhere near blonde enough, so why can't I let it go? River thinks it's because you keep saying "no." I'm inclined to agree."

"So, you think that if we just jump on in to the sack for a good screw you'll be right as rain?" John nodded stiffly and she licked the corner of her mouth, again. "I would love to help you out, John. But, I have to think of myself, and saying yes to this plan of yours? It would kill me."

John looked up from his brooding to meet her eyes and saw a shine in them that he had somehow missed in all their interactions. It was so familiar. It was warm and distant and close and cold and pained all at once. It was a look he'd seen several times in his own reflection.

"Oh."

She sniffled a little before her small broken voice filled the kitchen. "Yeah. Oh."

John focused on his tea for a moment before shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "I should, probably-"

"Yeah, you really should."

John let himself out and Louis stayed where she was for a moment. That didn't go the way she had hoped it would. It went the completely wrong way, actually. Nothing of the sort was meant to come out, but it had, and she'd somehow managed to out her feelings.

Something inside her snapped and she broke down. And once they started, the tears showed no signs of stopping. A little bit more of her soul ached with every body wracking sob.

For a time she couldn't bring herself to move, but, finally, she managed to find herself collapsing onto the couch. Was a person allowed to hurt this much? And if they weren't, what did that make her?

She continued on muttering words of nonsense until, after several minutes of endless tears, she got a little bit of a hold on herself.

"For the best, really. Now I don't have to play pleasant anymore." A few more tears leaked out of her eyes for a time before finally she sniffed. "That's enough of that. Crying is useless. Man up and move on."

She sniffed a few more times before shuffling to her room to grab a bottle of something stronger. Once back on the couch she opened the bottle of Jack Daniels she'd dug up and took a few healthy swigs. Sighing in relief when she felt the liquid begin to seep into her bones, she turned her movie back on and watched in silence for a moment.

"Man, why I couldn't I be a Jane Austen character?" She watched as Darcy awkwardly tried to make Elizabeth welcome at his estate. "I'd probably end up as Ms. Lucas or something with a less pleasant outcome."

John wandered for a time, not really sure of how to work out what had just transpired between Louis and him. It sure made things a lot clearer, and answered some questions.

Still, though, it made things a lot murkier. She had legitimate feelings for him, and therefore wouldn't sleep with him. But, everything he'd seen of her said she wasn't one to have those feelings. Hell, he'd talked to Jake just that morning, when he was making up his mind whether to approach her, again. What he had said about their encounter gave no indication that she was one to allow emotions of that sort into her life.

He found himself in front of Jack's flat. For a moment he wondered if it was a good idea to try and have a civil conversation with the man about his cousin. It had never been an easy topic to bring up with the American. Apparently there was bad blood in the water in regards to his family.

"What the hell?"

John began pounding on Jack's door, calling for him to open up. He didn't have to wait long; Jack was soon blinking sleepily at him. It didn't take long for him to register it was John at his door and he grumbled his invitation.

"Sorry, I didn't know you'd be asleep, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered you." Jack snorted and John had to agree. He would have. "I need to talk to about something that you, weeeell, won't like."

Jack pulled a bottle and can of beer out of his fridge. He tossed the can at John and popped the cap off of his bottle. They both drank for a moment before Jack led him into the living room.

"So, what do you need to talk to me about?"

"Louis."

Jack choked on his beer. "Now, when you say Louis, there's no chance that you're talking about a guy and not my cousin, is there?" John chuckled and Jack groaned. "Really, John, just sleep with her and put me out of my misery."

"Well, that's actually what I'm here about."

"I'm not giving you pointers on how to make it with my cousin."

"Well, I'm going to need more than help, Jack. I'm going to need a miracle." John finished off his can and set it down on the floor by his feet. "She's got legitimate feelings for me. That's why she won't sleep with me. But, she's perfectly fine with sleeping Jake."

Jack burst out laughing. "She slept with Jake? Jake Simmons? Wow! And not with you."

John endured his friend's laughter for time before throwing his empty can at him. "All right, I get it. Did you miss the little detail where she has feelings for me? That's why she won't sleep with me. Well, I'm supposing that's the reason, not sure if there are any others, though."

"Maybe the fact that you're her best friend's brother?" John made a noise of conceit before rising to get another beer. "Just out of curiosity, Doc, how much did she say?"

"Well, she didn't really say anything. I just sort of figured it out. Why do you ask?"

Jack was silent for a moment as stared at the bottle in his hand. "Doc, I don't hate my cousin. Really, we're a lot alike. We both do drastic things. We both like beer out of bottles. We both love a Smith. Well, I love a few but that's hardly the point."

John paused in lowering himself back into his chair. "I think you just said something vital, but my brain isn't quite making sense of it."

"She doesn't just have feelings for you, Doc. She's in love with you." Jack watched as his friend's face became white. "And if she's anything like her mother, she's going to make you pay for it. If the two of you were friends, this wouldn't be a problem. But, and you can't argue this, you two are in no way friends."

"Yeah, she mentioned that the other day."

"So, you've talked about this, then?"

"We've gone over our lack of friendship." John took a swig from his can. "Which, I terribly want to contest. How can she so easily be friends with Ian but snub me without even a second thought?"

"She's not snubbing you, she's making her point. She may be in love with you but damn if she acts like it." Jack sighed. "Listen, don't take it personally and just leave her alone. Don't call her; don't go to her place to talk to her. She'll be civil for Ian's sake, but if you try any funny business when she's alone with you, I'm only going to say I warned you as your eulogy."

"She hasn't attacked before. I mean, we've never really been alone before, and even then she hasn't been civil every time. What's changed?"

"What's changed? Look, you know now. Before she was only torturing herself but now you know, and that gives you this power over her. You won't use it, cause I know you, but you still have it. And you are going to pay for it. No one, in her mind anyway, should have that kind of thing over her. Feelings that strong are something to be hidden and managed."

John slowly felt any hope he had repairing things Louis slip away. "What do I do?"

"Nothing. You can't do a damn thing until she's weeded anything she's ever felt for you out using logic and throwing herself into school, work and art, a little bit." Jack readjusted and kicked his empty bottle, letting roll across the floor. "Listen, Doc, she may be a little bit Harkness, but she's mostly her mother's daughter. She has standards, mental checklists and a scary ability to cut out anything in her life that's distracting or somehow harmful. And that's you."

"What does that even mean?"

Jack gave a bitter laugh. "You're harmful now. Over the next few months, when you see her, all you'll see is the rage. She'll be going through everything she knows about you, as well as everything she doesn't, and she's going to be categorizing it. You'll be separated and marked and when she's done with you, in her mind, you'll be nothing but a set of checks and balances. You won't even be a person to her anymore."

John looked down at his hands as he loosely held onto his drink. "And I can't do anything?"

"No. Any chance you had at having any sort of relationship with her, friendly or otherwise, just left the field."

Ian couldn't really register what was happening. Sure, he'd done some odd things in his life. Even some that he, to this day, couldn't honestly say he knew the reasoning behind. But, this, what he was doing right now, was proving to be the oddest and least thought through.

"You look like you're going to be sick, Ian. Should we pull over?" He turned his head slightly to regard the blonde beside him.

"No, no. I'm fine, really." He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked back at the road. "I'm just hoping the instructions I left my fill in are clear. Wouldn't want to come back and have no one know what's going on."

He watched her from the corner of his eyes as her tongue poked through her teeth. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Ian tightened his grip on the steering wheel for a moment. Stealing another glance her way, he tried assessing her feelings. "Are you sure you are? I mean, really, you've kind of blindsided me with all of this."

She tugged her lower lip into her mouth and he sighed as he focused on the road once more. "It's not too late, Rose. We can just turn around and head back to the courthouse and file papers for an annulment."

She laughed and lay her hand on his clenched fist, which instantly relaxed. "I can promise you that if you even think about turning around, you'll be in big trouble."

"Fine, fine. I'll drop it." There was silence in the car for a moment. "Your mother is going to kill me. I heard about John's first encounter. I can feel a sting my cheek now, and it's getting stronger the closer to Brighton we get."

Rose giggled and curled up in her seat. "Oh, you'll be fine. Maybe. Really, I wish that were something I could guarantee but the only boyfriend I've had that she's approved of was Mickey."

"And you aren't just introducing your boyfriend this time around. You're introducing your husband." He pulled over at a shoulder and felt Rose move her hand to his shoulder. "We just eloped, Rose. What on Earth is this going to do John? I didn't even think about him! I just saw a chance and went. Rose, I'm a horrible person. Did he even know you were back in town?"

"No, he didn't."

"There are so many questions I should have asked. There are things that need clearing up. And what are we going to do for living arrangements? I can't just leave Louis to handle the rent on her own. I can't leave her alone. She needs someone. And who's going to be able to adjust to living with her?"

"Ian, breathe. You're right."

"I am?"

"Yes, there are things you need to know. But not while we're sitting here, in the car. We'll stop at the next hotel and get a room for the night, all right?"

Ian felt a thrill start in him her words coaxed him back onto the road. _A_ room. Not a couple of rooms. But one room, for the two of them.

"You are very persuasive Miss Tyler."

Rose made a disagreeing noise. "Not Miss Tyler anymore, Ian. Noble-Smith, that's me."

Ian's stomach lurched a bit. He didn't allow himself to relax until they checked into the hotel. There were too many uncertainties floating in the smallish blue car. Too many unanswered questions. Made it difficult to breathe, and it was too cold still to open a window.

Ian dropped their bags in the closet and followed Rose into the sleeping area.

"So, Rose, really-" He was cut short when he looked up to see Rose standing by the window. "Rose?"

Rose turned slightly. "I guess there are things to talk about, then?"

She watched as Ian sat down, and chose to stay where she was. "Weeelll, yes. There are a few questions I would like answered, but If you aren't up to it. We can talk later?"

"Do you remember when I first met you and John?" Ian smiled faintly. "You looked exactly the same. Same manic grin. Same fabulous hair. Same warm brown eyes. I couldn't get enough of you two, but at the same time I thought I would explode. And you were both giving me this attention, like I was the most clever thing in the world."

"That's cause you are, Rose. You're the most clever, brilliant, and beautiful woman I know. Sure, when we first met you were just a girl coming into her own, but you've grown up to be so much." She watched as looked at his clenched hands. "It's why we fell in love with you."

"See, there! That's the thing. You can say it."

"I don't understand."

Rose moved before him and took his hands in hers. "In all the time he and I were together he never once, not once, told me he loved me. The not getting married thing I could handle, but how could I continue on like that? Not knowing for sure? Oh, every now and then he would start to get around to it, but then he would stop short. Like it would break him."

Ian swallowed hard, she could see his Adam's apple bob. "Have you talked to him about this? Last we talked about it, he was under the impression things didn't work out because he couldn't commit to marriage."

"I know. I tried talking to him about a month ago. I called him, asked him to meet in Brighton. He came, but he seemed to think things were just going to go back to where they. Just like that!" Rose snapped her fingers affect, startling Ian. "Sorry. Thing is, though, when I tried to talk about our issues he just went back to same old John diversion tactics. Finally, fed up, I asked him if he was ever going to say it. I was so willing that even if he promised to say it someday, I would have gone back into ignorant bliss. All he could manage was; "Does it really need saying?" What do you have to say, Ian?"

She watched as Ian's eyes became very sad. "I love you, Rose Tyler."

She pushed forward, kissing him with everything she was worth. Ian responded enthusiastically, pulling her as close as she could come. They stayed lost in each other for a while before Ian gently pulled away.

"Rose, kissing you is the best thing I've ever experienced, really. But, why now? You never batted an eye at me before."

"Oh, but I did. About a year after John and I became serious, and his handicap became clear, I saw you. I saw you and I began watching. You were always so guarded and distant, I couldn't help but wonder what you were like when John wasn't there, purposefully over shadowing you. And don't give me that look. He does it on purpose and you let him.

"As I watched you I began to realize that for all your similarities, you two are so very different. Just different enough that I couldn't fool myself into thinking it was transference when I began to feel more for you. It was that night that I joined you and Louis for drinking that did me in. You said it then, when we were snogging by the phone. You said that you loved me and damn you're brother."

Ian's eyes widened and he worked his jaw, to deny it she was sure, but then his brow lowered. "I did say that, didn't I? The details don't all come through all time. I was a little bit gone by that point."

"Not too far gone, though, I'm happy to say. You remember it very well for a man who had the amount of booze you had." Her tongue poked between her teeth and she saw his eyes zero in on her mouth. "I became confused and left to sort myself out. Mickey gave me updates from time to time. Did you know he's now one my dad's go to guys. I'm another!"

She felt her chest inflate with pride. It was something she couldn't help these days. Her life had been so without direction until she'd begun dating Mickey. She'd never finished school and had wasted several months on someone who didn't care at all. Then came Mickey. He picked her up and dusted her off and cared. The Noble-Smith brothers were the last bit of push she needed to try and be better. Working in a shop wasn't going to be her whole life, anyway.

"So, you're working for Pete's security company? That's brilliant, Rose!" Ian kissed her, then, and she hummed in content. "So, will you stay in Brighton, or-?"

"Don't be daft, you loon! I'm moving in with you, in London. Mickey can't handle the operation on his own. Sure, he's done fine for now, but I'm clearly needed to keep things running smoothly."

"Clearly!"

Rose felt a soft smile take over her lips. "I can't say it, yet, Ian. I feel it, so much! But, I'm gonna need a little time to adjust, yeah?"

She giggled softly as Ian nuzzled her neck for a moment, pulling her tightly to him, again. "You take all the time you need, Rose Tyler. I mean, Rose Noble-Smith."


	4. Here's Some Stuff From the Inbetween

**A/N**: This chapter is rather long, and it was hard to get through because I want the plot to move along faster than its natural pace. As a writer I can't skip the middle stuff because I want to reach my ultimate now-ish. Stick with me. There will be points in the story where it'll take a while for me to finish a chapter because I'm just sick of the in-between. Hence the title. I hope you find enjoyment in it, and please review if you have something to say or an opinion. No matter how small it is, it'll be greatly appreciated.

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><p>Louis stared blurrily at the figures in front of her. She wasn't sure of much, at this point, but she was sure it was two figures and one was sort of brown and the other was a shocking shade of yellow. Someone was poking her in the ear with what felt like was stick.<p>

"Ian, if you don't remove that stick from the proximity of my ear, I'm going to stick up your ass so that you and your brother have a matching set."

"She's quite lucid for someone surrounded by an enormous amount of empty booze bottles."

Ian stood up straight and she heard him kick a few of those bottles around. "Did you even leave this flat once, other than to get more booze, while I was away?"

"Does getting more chips count?"

"No."

"Then yes, once. I left to vandalize your brother's office." Louis tried to sit up but her head instantly fell back onto the pillow. "Oh, dear God, will one of you just bash my head in? Really, I have a baseball bat sitting by the window. It'll be easy. I won't even move, I swear."

She felt hands on her forehead. "She feels really warm, Ian."

"Oh, she's just dealing with a bad hangover. You see all these bottles! And empty chip wrappers. Her whole diet this past week has been nothing but booze, mostly cheap, and bad chips. Don't argue with me, Louis. You know that vendor across the street is rubbish at chips."

"No, Ian, I don't think this is the result of a bad bender. I think she may be legitimately ill." She felt the hands on her move to her chest. "Her hearts beating really fast and I can feel and hear her breathing becoming labored. Maybe we should call Martha?"

She felt another body lean over her and manish hands began checking her over. "You're right. I've seen her at the tail end of a bad bender and this is not what it looks like. Now, I know a lot about biology and what the outcome of mixing the genes of a howler monkey and a beagle is, but disease is not my specialty. I'll give Martha a ring."

For the next while Louis could only notice bodies moving around the flat. Ever once and a while one of them would either place or remove a cold compress from her head. Someone took her temperature and another placed a blanket over her.

Eventually, though, her head was pounding too loud to hear, and the light in the flat became too bright to keep her eyes open. Everything hurt and she became acutely aware of certain areas, like her big toe, which made no sense.

After what seemed like forever in a sensory deprivation tank her senses finally cleared enough that she could finally take notice of another person in the room. She could hear muffled voices and words. It took a minute to realize they were talking about her and not a chicken. Though, why she thought they were talking about a chicken even she couldn't understand.

"I just had the strangest dream, Aunty Em."

"Hello, Louis, it's Martha. Ian and Rose are here as well. In fact, they called me over. Said you were feeling under weather. Can you describe what you're feeling?"

"My head feels like the Hulk used for batting practice. My body feels like he tried to use me a bat then got very, very angry. My eyes? Like someone, probably Ian cause he has a douche side, replaced all the moisture in my eyes with Acid. My ears can't hear much on account of the pain in my head. My big to tingles and was itchy about half an hour ago, I think. I couldn't scratch it and would prefer if no one tried. I have a thing about feet. Also, why do we have a chicken in the flat? Or have I been playing too much Gauntlet and am now imagining one in a feverish haze, since I'm apparently sick?"

There was silence, or at least she thinks there was, for a time. "She incredibly lucid for someone coming off of a week filled with cheap booze, bad chips and has a rather high fever." There was some shuffling and she felt something cold moving around her chest. "Now, you say she hasn't left the flat other than to vandalize John's office. One: That's never good. She's been sitting in her own contamination with no fresh air. Two: Why did she vandalize John's office?"

"Um, we're not sure. All we know is she had a week long bender and that's the only thing she left for other than more booze and chips."

"Louis, sweetie, have you been feeling tired lately? Lagged down? Sometimes exhaustion can lead to catching a virus."

"I have been crying, heavily, off and on since Thursday." Louis felt her face scrunch up as everything became incredibly loud. "Ian get the chicken out of the living room, you know how it likes messing on the rug."

"Louis, there isn't a chicken in here. You said it yourself, it's simply you having been turned into poultry too many times while playing Gauntlet." She heard more shuffling and a hand fidgeting with the compress on her head. "Rose, don't baby her. She'll only tease you about it later."

"Ian, really, have you ever seen her this sick?" She heard herself whimper and couldn't really disagree. Everything hurt and everyone was talking so loud. "Then let me baby her. Martha, do you know what's wrong?"

"Yeah, she has the flu, from what I can tell. I want to get some blood work done, so bring her down to the hospital and we'll admit her into my care. I'll set her up with some antibiotics and make sure she's well taken care of."

"I'm going away? But who's going to make sure Clucky doesn't singe the furniture? She has such horrible issues with gas."

"Seriously, what is with her and the chicken thing? And what's this about singeing and gas issues?" Louis could felt herself being picked up and carried away. "Oh, I forgot how tiny she can be. I know she's 1.6 meters, but she looks so much smaller right now."

"Doesn't help that there are times when she rarely eats. She also takes far too many spin classes."

"The wheels on the bus go round and round?"

She felt a hand moving, smoothing her hair from her face. "That's right, Louis. Ian, I'm getting worried."

"It's just the fever. She told me about when she got the flu back in the states during high school. Same exact thing. Just let her voice the insane workings of her mind and we'll all be better for it."

"Ian? How big am I if I'm 1.6 meters? What's that in American?"

"How tall are you, Louis?"

"Really fucking short."

She could hear laughter before her ears were too blocked with the pain in her head, again, to hear.

"Ian, I thinks she's finally going back to sleep."

Ian looked over at Rose who was watching Louis in the back seat from her perch beside him. "I'm just happy that we didn't return the rental, yet. Though, I suppose with your mother in Brighton I should probably invest in an actual vehicle. Your mother won't stand for us not being able to visit her whenever. Really, though, do we have to visit her at all? Maybe once a year? Once every two years? Doesn't that sound nice? And it'll make the visits all the more special."

He glanced over at Rose and shrunk down into his seat a little. "All right, visiting whenever your mother demands, got it."

"I honestly can't understand what you have against her. She was so pleasant to you." Ian shot her a look of surprise. "Well, at least as pleasant as she could manage after she slapped you. How is your cheek, by the way?"

"It tingles when we talk about her. I wonder if it'll work like an injury? Like, it'll tingle when we talk about her and sting worse the closer she gets. If so, it'll be a brilliant warning system." A groan rose up from the back seat. "How is she Rose?"

"Louis, you all right?"

"Take a pill of shut the hell up you screaming cow and call me in the morning." Ian watched as Rose straitened in shock. "Ian, I want my Mommy."

Ian deflated a bit at the sound of her small voice. "When did the hospital get this far away? They moved it. They must have."

"Ian, we'll get there and she'll be fine. You heard Martha, she's going to take good care of her. Just relax."

Ian nodded and chanced a look back at Louis. She was extremely pale, shaking and her eyes were darting around the car like she was a caged animal. Suffice to say, he was shocked at her state. He'd never seen her like this. It was oddly earth shattering.

"I'm still calling her mother, just to give her the heads up." His hands twisted on the steering wheel before relaxing when he finally laid eyes on the hospital Martha worked for. "Sheila is going to kill me for letting this happen. It's not my fault, and she won't say it is, but she is going to kill me."

"So, you've met her mom?"

Ian was about to answer when something in her tone caused him to pause. He was struggling to get a very reluctant Louis out of the car and into the building when he noticed it. There was an undercurrent there. It was one that offered nothing but a difficult home life and complicated conversations.

"Barely. She comes around about every six months. I met her, briefly and we really don't see much of each other when she visits. Far too preoccupied, me."

"Ian."

"Yes?"

"If you get along well with her mother, that's fine. From what I've seen of Louis, I wouldn't be surprised if her mother was easy to get along with." She stroked his cheek. "It was just a question, honest. Now, if you had said she was French, 38 and the distant descendant of a certain Courtesan, it would be an entirely different story."

Ian raised his brow at her description. "John and I went to France once, and when we were taking a tour of Versailles there was a particularly nice politician there, going over plans for renovating the grounds. She and John got on a little too well for my liking."

"Oh, I think I remember that trip. Shortly before you left, right?" Ian chuckled a little. "You should have heard him. He called me up while you were away. "I just snogged Madam du Pompadour!" He was all breathless and giddy."

"He actually snogged her?"

"What? He wasn't talking about you?"

"No! God, she looked just like that old French cow and I knew it would be trouble. He was going on and on about that Pompadour for hours on our way to the castle."

"I'm so sorry, Rose. I had thought the two of you were just having a bit of fun." Ian placed a light kiss on her head. "I mean, had I known otherwise, I probably wouldn't have said anything."

Rose smiled fondly as she watched Ian fill out Louis' paperwork. It was so different seeing him in his own light and not being over shadowed by John. Absent mindedly she turned the gold band around her finger. He caught the action out of the corner of his eye and grabbed her hand to lay a delicate kiss on her finger.

"All right, Mr. Noble-Smith? We're getting her set up in room 202, on the second floor. If you want to head up, you're listed on her friends and family list, so you're clear. Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to wait in the lobby."

Rose nodded and gave Ian's hand an encouraging squeeze before she stationed herself in a seat nearest to the hallway that she could manage. Time passed by slowly, and Rose had to admit that she was rather bored. After an hour of waiting, Ian not wanting to be away from the fever stricken Louis longer than he had to be, Rose finally decided to find the canteen and maybe a little shop. All good hospitals had little shops after all. Shopping did the world of good for some people, as John would always point out when he had to be in one.

After getting a small bite to eat, a snack for John and coffee for the both of them, she meandered back upstairs to share the spoils of her search. Setting her things down on the nurse station counter, she made small talk with the nurse who had admitted Louis while another paged for Ian. The nurses here were actually rather nice, really. Much nicer than the ones she'd had to deal with in the past. Jeopardy friendly, that was her.

"Rose, you brought coffee and nibbles. Have I told you lately, that I love you?" She giggled and watched as Ian sighed after taking a good draft of coffee. "How did you know how I like my coffee?"

"We've been pretty much isolated from the world for nearly a week, Ian. One would think it would be rather easy to observe how you like your coffee."

Ian smiled and pulled her close with his free hand, nuzzling her neck for a moment and breathing in her soft, feminine scent. She ran her fingers through his hair kissed his cheek. He was tired and almost looked his age, and she ached for him. His best friend and confidante was lying in hospital with a severe fever and the flu, at least.

"How is she? Are they done with the tests?"

"Weeelll, she's obviously suffering from a massive hangover and dehydration, because, no matter what any alcoholic says, liquor is not water. She's got a bit of food poisoning from ingesting nothing but those bad chips. She does have the flu, but they're slowly bringing her fever down. They want to get down to at least 99.0 before they allow a sigh of relief, and of course she's being stubborn about that. They're thinking she may have blood poisoning. Those tests aren't finished yet, though, and, like I already said, they're focusing on getting her temperature down.

"Did you know she runs a few degrees lower than 98.6?" Rose raised her eyebrows in slight shock. "I know! She's such a little space heater, but her internal body temperature, according to her records, is only about 97.4."

"Yeah, that's weird."

"Also, I called Mickey to bring an overnight bag for her."

Rose choked on her drink, a bit. "Why would you do that?"

"He's the only other person with a key besides Donna, who would begin texting as soon as she a flash of blonde, Jack, who would flirt relentlessly with anyone and everyone in sight as well as forget to bring the overnight bag, or John and are either of us ready for that?" Rose deflated and laid her head his shoulder with a groan. "Exactly, Mickey was the lesser of two evils. Besides, he was ready for you to come back to town anyway, remember? You two are heading the project to rework the London branch of Torchwood to be the new home base, so to speak."

Rose sighed and nodded her, choosing, though, to keep it on his shoulder. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. This is going to be interesting, though. He had to hear me whine for months after I left, John. I can see it now. I'm going to be his verbal punching for months."

She felt John chuckle as he patted her knee affectionately. They sat in silence for a time and she could feel Ian beginning to nod off. It was rather reluctant, and his head jerked more than once but eventually it was him leaning on her as he caught a small cat nap while they waited for either Mickey to show or Martha to come out with news.

"Yeah, I'm looking for a bloke, a mate of mine. He's tall, a bit rugged and skinny. Has spikey brown hair. Most likely being loud and spouting nonsense about nothing, generally trying to be impressive." Rose turned her head slightly and watched as Mickey converse with the nurse at the counter. It wasn't the one that had admitted Louis, and she was rather grateful. "I just need to give him this overnight bag. A friend of ours was admitted earlier. He should have been the one with her. I believe her doctor is Martha something or other."

"I believe I can help." Rose snorted a little at Mickey's flustered sputtering as Martha narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a cold once over. "I'm the Martha something or other you're looking for. And just for future reference, should I have the misfortune of meeting you again, it's Dr. Martha _Jones_."

"Would you believe me if I told you I would have been listening to Ian's instructions better had I known I would be meeting a babe as beautiful as you?" Rose watched as Martha bristled a little. "What I mean to say is- Well, you're really pretty."

"I think the saddest part of our interaction today is that I think I know you well enough to believe you."

Rose felt Ian stirring. "What time is it?"

"Half past 5. You were out for about 15 minutes." She ran a hand through his hair and he cuddled for a moment before leaning away from her and stretching. "Mickey's here, yeah, and he's completely put his foot in his mouth with Martha. Really, you should see this. It's better than some reality series on the tele!"

Ian leaned over her and watched as Mickey stumbled over his words and Martha continued to stonewall him.

"Do you think we should save him from his misery and let him know she's engaged?"

"Martha's engaged? Since when?"

"About four months ago. It's another doctor, but he doesn't work here, he works at some other hospital. I don't know. I may have met him once, but I can't really recall."

Rose raised her brow. The Noble-Smith brothers always remembered people worth remembering, and one would think a close friend's fiancé would fall into that category. She was beginning to suppose not as Ian struggled to try and describe their friend's intended.

"He was rubbish, wasn't he?"

"I'm beginning to fear that's it."

Rose laughed lightly and watched as Martha finally had had enough of Mickey. She looked him square in the eye and began barking orders. To her and Ian's amusement, Mickey snapped right to attention and managed a satisfactory quick march into the lobby. He sighed in relief when he saw them.

"Ian, Rose, thank god! This woman is terrifying. I was just trying to-" Mickey paused and looked over, and, as if noticing Rose there for the time, leapt from his seat and began pointing, mouth agape. "Rose? You're back in London? I mean I heard there were rumors of your coming back, but you're actually back in London! And getting snuggly with Ian."

There's a pause for a moment as Mickey soaks these things in. Ian watched, eyes weary as a Mickey began to slowly- but wasn't that always his way?- put things together. As realization donned in his Ian couldn't help but wonder if had, in fact, made a mistake in asking Mickey to be the one to bring over Louis' clothes.

"So, Rose is back in London. Rose is back in London getting all comfy with Ian. Ian is not John." There was another pause as Mickey exhaled and fell back into a seat across from the couple. "I'm missing pieces, and I don't like that. Both of you need to get gabby now. Ian, you have a gob, hop to it. Wait. First things first, I suppose. Does anyone know what's wrong with Louis?"

John sighed as he stared down at his desk. "JACK ASS" had been burned into the mahogany and the marks looked angry and emotional. He felt a pang of regret every time he laid eyes on them, but he couldn't bring himself to cover them. Just like he couldn't bring himself completely remove the numerous amount of toilet paper, some had been wet down, from his walls and shelves. An empty bottle of Jack sat by his desk lamp. All these things served as a reminder of how passionate Louis could be.

It was a passion that, if what Jack said held any truth, he would never get the chance to experience. Sitting here, in the aftermath of her attack, did very little for him but it was as close as he would get. And, though he dared not let the thought linger, it also gave him hope that he may be able to pull it out of her still. It was all seeming rather pointless, really. He hadn't seem hide or hair of her, both of which he was missing more with each avoided route and every ignored text, for two weeks.

Ian had been distant, too, though he assured him it had nothing to do with whatever war was raging between Louis and himself. In fact, Ian seemed rather in the dark of the whole situation. Mickey was always busy with expanding the London branch of Torchwood, even though he was scheduled to get some help up from Brighton any day now. So he had heard through Jake. Jack and Martha made good enough company, but Martha was always on call these days, and Jack was Jack. Donna was Donna, nothing really to say about that, but she was now his main source of company whenever the others were otherwise busy.

"You know, in some rituals of the superstitious nature, if you stare at something personal of the person you're trying to find, say a chant or two, you will find them." John looked up to see one of the few people he'd ever expected leaning against his door jam. "Or, is it more rather information you're trying to pull from that hateful graffiti?"

"Well, Dad, I suppose a bit of both. When did you get back to town?"

Christopher Smith was a formidable man. He was a few centimeters shorter than his two oldest sons, but was still rather imposing. John couldn't help but remember being terrified of ever being caught in his shadow when he was a boy. Like having it fall over him then would somehow cause it to fallow him all through his life. During his youth John fought hard to find an equal ground to stand on when around him. When that failed he stopped trying. It wasn't until Rose left him that he was forced to realize that instead of falling in his father's shadowed, he'd instead shadowed him. It was bone chilling, that fact.

"Last night. I've been in a meeting with the headmaster since 10 this morning. We were arranging how long I would stay on here as a lecturer." John nodded and watched as his father began summing him up. "And what information are you looking for? About who? And where is that lovely Rose Ian never failed to tell me so much about?"

John scowled for a moment. He had avoided Rose meeting his father at all costs. Chris coming on as temporary lecturer was a rather common occurrence and keeping the two apart took some creative thinking. He had his reasons. His father was a charming man, even with his big ears and nose and shaved head, and even though Rose loved him, he feared for the worst. He inherited his taste for blondes from someone, after all.

"Rose is gone. We separated and she moved to Brighton. Last I heard she was finding herself very happily climbing the ranks of her father's security business as a very talented asset to their PR department." John sighed as he ran his hand over the words that scared his desk. "As for the other matter, well, it doesn't really matter. That situation is dealing with itself and there's nothing to be done about it."

"Well, if you keep that up, absolutely. I will admit that I never did you any favors by going from woman to woman when you were a child. I need you to know, though, I did love your mother. We are capable of love, us Smiths."

"I never doubted it. What I doubt is our ability to admit said love before it's too late. Did mother ever know?" He was met with silence. "And there's the problem. I've been telling everyone that Rose left because I couldn't bring myself to think about marriage, even if it was to her, but really there were deeper problems. I love Rose, so much. It's so over powering at times that I find myself unable to breathe at the simple thought of her. But could I say it? Could I tell her? Could I take that final step and let her in all the way and reveal that inner part of myself when it counted?"

"I see the damage in our family runs deeper than previously thought." Christopher sighed and met John's eyes. "For what it's worth, I did try to give you an existence where you could have a chance to learn from someone more capable then me. Not my fault it didn't take. What do you say to chips? I'm going to need you to buy. I've been in Germany the past three months and I don't have any local currency. Also, there was a mix up with those Torchwood security blokes when I was reentering the country and my assets are, at the moment, frozen and I won't be able to access them for two weeks."

John groaned as he led his father through the university grounds toward the canteen. "If it's not one it's another. Will you ever be able to travel without landing yourself into trouble?"

"Says the man who was held by American homeland security for a week. Why was that, by the way? I've been rather curious."

John grumbled as they entered the canteen went straight for the food. "I will never speak of it, so stop asking." He felt a muscle in his back twitch, the kind that let you know when something sinister is in the room, and he began surveying the room. "Well, hell."

There, across the way, not more than a stone's throw from the register was Louis. She looked horrible. Her eyes were puffy and dark circles lay beneath them. She was thin, as opposed to her usual curves, and her hair was the flattest and dirtiest he'd ever seen it. She was wearing her usual tight pants and loose shirt but both looked to be too tight and too big at the same time. She was scowling at some work in front of her and had a tray with nearly no food that looked like it hadn't been disturbed since it had been served to her.

"Oh, well, she's not exactly blonde enough, but she has potential. Let's go introduce ourselves. Seems she's having a bit of trouble." John tried to give a feeble protest but he was distracted when she adjusted and a pair of red, warn cowboy boots came into view. They seemed so out of place on her. "John, she's a damsel in great distress. The Smith in you won't allow you to ignore her."

And John conceded, partly because that was true, but also because he was missing her cutting sarcasm and guarded yet inviting gaze. So, he fallowed silently as his father led him to her table. He tugged on his ear when she failed to notice they were standing over her. She was usually so aware of her surroundings. He took note of her enflamed cheeks and labored breathing. Her nose was red, and raw. Lips were cracked.

Well, brilliant. She was sick.

"Miss, I'm Doctor Christopher Smith. I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be a touch under the weather. Maybe we can help you with your current studies and ease your mind, which should help in leading you to a speedier recovery."

"Smith? Christopher Smith?" She sniffed and pulled out a well used handkerchief. "Lovely. All I need are more Smiths piled on top of the several in my life. But, I could use the help. I understood everything in front of me just three weeks ago, and now it might as well be in Latin. Couldn't be in Klingon, or French, no. My feverish brain had to make it look like Latin."

John smirked and watched for a moment before shaking his head biting into a chip. "One thing, though. He opens his mouth and talks as little as possible." His smirk slid from his face as she began working with his father.

They conversed easily as the two managed to figure out the work in front of her little by little. He sat in relative silence as they got to know one another. In 30 minutes his father had found out more about her than he had learned in 3 years.

For instance she's the youngest of five siblings and a bit of a rebel. Most of her family had fallowed the same path leading them to insurance. She was going into accounting. Basketball and baseball were the popular sports in her family but she preferred running, dancing, and American full contact football on occasion. And, as it turns out, her mother did name her after the state because she attended college there and fell in love. Her mother had never planned on leaving, was even engaged before Louis' father came into the picture and changed the game for all parties involved.

"So you're mother just took you and left? No note, no contact information? She just woke up one morning, made your father breakfast, saw him off to work, packed your bags and left?"

"In a 1965 mustang convertible, Midnight Blue. Love that car. We headed west and never looked back."

"And where was it you left? I can't recall you saying where you were originally from." John sulked from his seat beside his father. The man was getting on with her so well. "Not trying to be very rude, but if you hadn't noticed it seems to be an inherited trait in the males of the Smith family."

"Oh, I've noticed. I live with Ian and have had a bit of John's rudeness shoved at me more than once. I should actually be heading toward my next class. Thank you for your help and it's been a real pleasure to meet you, Doctor." John watched, scowl still in place as she began packing up her things. "I find you very charming and it's nice to see where Ian got his charm. Before you open that gob of yours and ruin my enjoying it being closed for so long, I personally am coming to understand you have very little to no charm. Also, you've been warned."

John perked up at her rude remarks. "Been warned? Warned of what? And what do you mean I have no charm? I have charm oozing out of my ears!"

Louis didn't stop in gathering her things into her impossibly stuffed messenger bag. "That's not charm oozing out your ears, John. That's the enormous amounts of hair gel being melted off of your scalp due to the hot air that resides in your bulbous skull witch houses your planetary sized ego."

Stunned into silence, John fell against his chair. "Severely harsh, that."

"You talk to Jack recently?" John nodded and watched as a sugary smile crossed her lips. "Then, you know I haven't even started."

"Oh, are you leaving already?" John raised his head and looked over the peroxide blonde that had sidled up next to Louis. "I heard you were back in classes and thought you could some liquid energy. Mocha Frappe no whip cream. Just the way you like it!"

The blonde's smile was far too bright and she was a little too eager to have Louis accept her gift. She was excited and very, very blonde. Louis was another story, though. She was stiff and her smile was terribly forced. He hand that accepted the gift was reluctant. It was very clear that she was not happy about this girl tracking her down and bringing her coffee. Still she played brave and took a sip. It may have been that she really wanted the coffee no matter who it was from, if the reverent look on her face after the first sip had anything to say about it.

"I heard Ian was monitoring your caffeine intake and thought maybe this would cheer you up."

Louis nodded lazily as she continued to drink from the frozen concoction. Her eyes rolled back for a moment before she finally released her straw from her lips. She then proceeded to grab the bridge of her nose and groan, setting the drink down and grabbing the back of the nearest chair for balance.

"Major brain freeze, but so worth it. Dude, you're the best." Louis shook her head and replaced the straw in her mouth. "I will most likely see you later, John, though I have a feeling you'll be quite displeased if Ian is serious about getting off of his ass. Have a wonderful day good sir and offspring."

She turned then, a slight spring in her step as she left the canteen, the peroxide girl following all the way.


	5. The Part Where Things Get Mucked Up

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update this story. For a while I was uncertain if it was going in the right direction and I had to take some time away from this chapter and be able to look at it with fresh eyes. I've had this one drafted for a while but finally got it back onto the track I wanted to. Bear with me with this one, things will start moving in a more clear direction in the next chapter. Promise. As always, reviews are much appreciated and I adore each and everyone of you for giving this story a chance. Read on!

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><p>Ian had rescheduled on him three times in the last month. A month. A month had passed since he'd been able hold a conversation with his brother that lasted than 3 minutes. He'd timed it. A month since his father had returned and begun an easy friendship with River, keeping her too occupied to have any time for their usual conversations. A month since he hadn't been able to enjoy Louis civil conversation and dry sarcasm. A month since his life had completely flipped upside down.<p>

He still was unclear as to what sickness Louis had been suffering from. She was having a habit of wearing large men's sweaters lately, due the temperature letting up. So far the pattern was running in two week cycles. His current information was limited due to the lack of time that had passed. The thing that seemed to be present more was her out of place red boots. They were easily being warn more than her trainers now and that was odd. From what he had seen, she wore trainers as much as possible. He found it endearing.

Something that was a rather unsettling development was that along with sweaters seemed to be men. She had one male that would monopolize her free time on campus during these two week periods. Each was pretty, tall and had great hair. They were also students, more around her age. He'd seen them come out of dark corners and cupboards on more than one occasion. The only relief he took from these situations was that the boy was only slightly jumpy. Louis was as calm as ever.

Observing Louis was how John was found by his ever bothersome father.

"Oh, I see you've taken a shine to her, then?" John turned, startled and grunted in greeting. "She's pretty, John. Young? Sure. Not nearly blonde enough, as I've already mentioned, but she has a great personality. I've had no trouble getting on with her. I can see why Ian has stationed her so securely in his life."

"Have you talked to Ian much since being in London?"

"Yes, I have. He's my son, too, John. The universe is not yours." Chris coughed and John scowled out the window as he continued to watch Louis interact with the current pretty boy. "Actually, I had to seek refuge at their flat for a bit when I first got into town. As you know my assets were frozen. Louis and I got on very well. She's a very talented cook and knows how to make excellent banana bread as well as some wonderful cinnamon and banana pancakes. You know how I feel about bananas."

"Yeah, never go to a party without one." John turned to stare at his father. "So, you and her are what? Friends?"

"Yeah, suppose so. It's a bit confusing. She's always guarded in a way. Open, yet guarded. Like she's waiting to see what the first attack will be even though she already has a counter attack planned."

"I've come to know the feeling." John returned his gaze to the window, not at all pleased with his father knowing so much about the girl who kept herself from him. "So, do you know what's happening here? I'm feeling rather like a storm is about to hit."

"Probably is. Lately blokes have been getting the wrong impression. She's been hanging 'round her male mates a little more than usual and they seem to think it means she's attracted. So, when things start getting to be a little too much she cuts the cord."

John watched as it all came to a head and she handed back the sweater she'd been wearing for the past two weeks. The boy was still for a time before animatedly trying to converse with her, a distraught expression evident even from this distance.

"John, you're clearly upset by this development. You'll go bald from rubbing and pulling like that." John only let out his breath when Louis successfully walked away from the boy, after spending several moments consoling him. "You can't lie to yourself forever. I think that this interest in her sexually has developed into something potentially harmful."

"What would you know of it?"

"I know that you've been trying, unsuccessfully for the past six months to get her to sleep with you. I know that she has revealed her main reason for avoiding your advances. I think you should reexamine your position in this situation. Also, I think you should honestly try dating. Maybe aim more for your age bracket."

John scoffed and pulled away from the window of the lecture hall. "Like you can talk. How old was your last girl? 38? Bit hypocritical of you, telling me to aim for women my age when you can't follow your own advice."

"I've lived a long time, John. I would like to say that I want to settle down and grow old with someone, but I'm already old. Now, I'm just trying to live. I don't date anymore, either. These women I collect are simply travelling companions. They're people who, in their youth, can appreciate what I'm trying to show them. Most of them are graduate students I've taken on as assistants."

John looked his father over. For the first time in a long time he saw how old he was. It wasn't uncommon for the men in his family to hold onto youthful looks for a long time, but his eyes told the story. They were tired and old and lonely, yes, but there was something else there as well. Satisfaction.

"John, I'm not trying to be hypocritical. I'm telling you these things because, believe it or not, I care about you. I care about all of you boys, and Donna. You are my children and I-." Chris faltered and John took pity on his struggling father.

"Yeah, you don't have to finish that. I understand." Chris sighed in relief. "So, I should date women my age? Wish I knew some that weren't all stuffy and baby hungry."

"You don't want children?"

John thought for a moment. "Well, I do, but I don't want to feel rushed. I'm 33, almost 34, and woman my age have biological clocks that are beginning to tick just a little too fast for my liking. I would want to enjoy the relationship should I have one. Not be worrying if maybe she's flushed her birth control down the toilet."

"Have you experienced this before?"

"No, but River has some interesting friends." Chris laughed and the two left the lecture hall. "Are you coming down to the pub tomorrow night? Ian hasn't called to reschedule yet, so I suppose it's still happening. Last I heard everyone was due to come, even Louis."

"Oh yes. From what I've heard Saturdays with Louis can be very interesting. I wouldn't miss it. The possibility of some important announcement is far too tempting to pass up, as well." Chris paused in the hallway just before the doors. "Louis is an odd thing. Fantastic, but odd."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she may seem to be all rough and distant, but really she's quite emotionally inclined. She feels things and well, she has this set idea of romance. You should here her rant sometimes. One night when I was still staying with them, it was just me and her in the flat and we somehow got on the topic. I think it started with me asking about her current plights."

"Yeah? And what is her view on the subject? Of romance, I mean."

"What else would you mean? Doesn't matter, really. I can't do it justice. You have to hear her talk about it."

John scowled at the side walk as he left the university and moved toward his flat. How had he missed all of these things over the three years he'd known her? Sure, up until a little over a year ago he had been solely focused on Rose and was sure no one would fault him not noticing another woman during that time. But, what about the months that followed. He had ignored, insulted and tried to sleep with her. All the while deluding himself into thinking that they were friends. Friends by his design, like he had gifted it on her, and she should be grateful.

Truth was, she didn't need his friendship at all. She'd been making that very clear over the last month. She would eat at various tables in the canteen and travel and lounge with large groups in-between classes and when she wasn't focusing on her current school work.

John entered his flat and stood in the hall for a moment. Finally he moved through his empty flat toward his room and just leaned against the frame for a time. He stared at the bed as memories of his life with Rose flashed behind his eyes. She was so vibrant and full of life and what had he done with her? Locked her away like a beast in the dungeon, hoarding her for himself.

After a time he began to fall back into reality. He was alone in his flat, again. His large, cold flat. Rose had found her way out and he had driven her to the distance she'd found.

Stripping out of his work close, he scrounged up his jim-jams and prepared for a night in. For a time his mind slipped back to one of the few good times he'd had with Louis. She'd come to check on him when he'd secluded himself after Rose leaving. It was the only time she'd done it, but she brought chips and beer from their favorite pub and forced him to eat and drink them.

At first he made slow progress so she tried making conversation. When that didn't work she harassed him and took stabs at him until he completely forgot what he was eating and drinking and could only focus on returning the fire. Before he'd realized it, he had consumed everything and was craving more.

She left him to his own devises after that and the next night he ordered in from Rose's favorite pizzeria. Slowly he rejoined society, and, he supposed he had to give a little credit to Louis for that. Sure he would have emerged, but he wanted to show her he wasn't any of the things she'd said he was. It was beginning to become clear that sleeping with every blonde woman he could find was not the way to do that.

He was startled out his thoughts by the sound of keys in his lock. He muted his movie and waited to see who would show. Slowly the sounds of soft steps came down the hall, the slight thudding of warn heels. Then he saw her.

It was weird seeing her in his place. Seeing her looking around like none of it was new, and it wasn't. She'd been there several times to drop his sorry drunk self onto the couch and flee. Seeing her move through his flat like she didn't need to be introduced to anything stirred something in him.

She didn't say anything as finally she met his eyes and moved toward him, all leisure and confidence. It was something he hadn't seen and he was too curious to break the mood. The air was quickly becoming thick; she dropped her bag shortly before reaching him on the couch.

To say his curiosity spiked when she kissed him was an understatement. They moved in her slow fashion since he was too taken aback by this development to take lead. And, really, he didn't mind. There was something about it that built different than the urgent, fevered kisses of his other encounters.

When she pulled back the look in her eyes quieted the questions on his tongue. They said not to question. Not to interrupt or this chance would be out the window. There was a challenge in them, though, as there usually was. Her slow ministrations were steadily driving out any brain function he had. It wasn't long before he completely threw all thought out the window and gave in with abandon.

The morning that followed was a cold bucket on his short lived triumph. As the sun began to slip in his room, it became clear as he stirred to life that he was very much alone. The bed was empty and his flat was cold. Scowling he searched the flat high and low for signs of her. Of what had transpired.

Other than the used condom in his trash bin, she had erased any signs of herself. There were no left under garments. No forgotten hair ties or other trivial items. She didn't leave a note requesting for him to call her or suggesting a coffee date. It was certainly different and he didn't like it. But more than that he didn't like how much he didn't like it. He didn't like how he couldn't stop thinking about how he didn't like it.

To keep occupied he set down to grade the dreadful papers his students had seen fit to turn in. It wouldn't take long for his mind to wonder back to her, though, and he would groan in frustration and type out a text meant for her, which he would delete. Really, he was not one to concede first and women were usually rather persistent for a few days before they would give up.

Much later in the day, his phone rang. A slight glimmer of hope showed, and was quickly stomped out. Ian waited on the other line, sounding as nervous and jumpy as ever. He felt his shoulders slip lower into depression as his evening plans seemed to be dashing out the door.

"Ian, if you're calling to reschedule, just grunt and say when."

"Oh, weeell, I was actually calling to make sure you were still up for it tonight. Everyone else is still going, even though we had to talk Jack out of backing out, obviously. What with Louis being present and all."

John perked up and looked at his watch. "Are we meeting up soon? It's about 5, now."

"We were thinking, maybe, 7."

"At the usual place?" Ian gave the affirmative and John tugged on his ear. "So seven down at the pub? Okay. I'll see you then, Ian."

Two hours. There was something moving about in the back of his mind. John couldn't place the feeling but it was similar the inkling that accompanies disaster. That was just what he needed now, disaster.

Sighing he grabbed more papers and turned on the Muppets Movie. Never failed to distract him, that movie. It wasn't long before he was running late, as usual. There were times when he wished he had a time machine, or at least a car. Too bad he couldn't pass his exams to save his life. That was something Donna had passed on to Ian and had given up on teaching him.

By the time he reached the pub, it was packed with the usual Saturday night crowd and it took a minute to locate Ian. Slowly he made it to the bar and called for his brother's attention. For a moment Ian looked sick as he downed his pint.

"John! We were beginning to wonder if you would ever make it. But, you've always been rubbish at these things."

John laughed and clapped his brother on the back while scanning the pub for frizzy curls. It wasn't long before he saw her chatting it up with someone who was blocked from his view. He took in a quick survey of her attire and noted her plunging neckline and boots, but they were a worn dark brown instead of the red she had seemed to be favoring.

"John, listen, there's a reason why I've been putting off these meetings." His focus quickly switched back to his brother who was nervously tugging on his ear. "Something has happened, recently, that will change the course of our lives. It's something huge, really. Weeelll, maybe you should have a pint or two before I tell you."

John accepted the pint that was handed to him and stammered a little. "I actually have some news for you as well, that could, given the way it's received, be rather huge itself. I, well- I think I will have a pint before I talk, but you should say your news while I'm occupied and my attention is on you."

Ian swallowed and nodded, looking down into his nearly empty glass. "Like I said something happened. You remember about a month and a half ago, give or take a week, I disappeared without any notice or explanation? Well, I hadn't intended to skip out on lunch with you and Jake. My plans had been solid but then an unexpected variable threw herself into the equation."

John coughed a little. "Herself? As in a female?"

"Yes, and you know her. Really there's no delicate way to go about this, but I guess I'll start with the basics of it. Rose is back in London." John choked on his beer and Ian cleared his throat. "Yeah, she and Mickey are expanding the Torchwood branch here."

"Really? That's brilliant! When did she get in? Did you here through Mickey? Wonder why he didn't drop me a line and pass on the news?"

"Actually, I didn't hear from anyone." John felt the blood draining from his face. "She was just there, in my office. I was caught completely off guard. I took off a few days of work, she wanted to talk, and one thing led to another. A few days passed and we were heading off to Brighton to tell her mother the news. I- Well, we got married. That's why I've been planning to meet with you. Mickey knows she's here, but he doesn't know the details. Louis does, seeing as Rose insisted on changing things as little as possible. You're the first person I've told."

"But, Dad-?"

"Yeah, that one was tricky. He's a sneaky bastard. And he would hit on her, a lot."

John was quiet for a moment as his brain began slowly process things. "Who else knows that she's back?"

"Um, well, since you're late, everyone here. They don't know why, though. You needed to be the first person I told." John sagged against the bar. "I'm so sorry, John, but, really, this could have all been avoided."

"Oh, really? My brother being a sneaky, plotting bastard could've all been avoided?"

"Yes! She wanted to be with you. You were her first choice! But every time she gave you a chance to give her a reason to stay you would muck it up and give her more reasons to leave. You said it yourself. Okay, not in so many words, but you implied it!" John chugged his pint and tried to pull away from Ian. "John, neither of us intended to hurt you with this. But, really, we both deserve a bit of happiness."

John looked for an exit, and that was when it all became real for him. Rose was there, looking at him through the crowd, and Louis was just beside her. They both were there, watching, and then Louis led her over.

"You've told him I take it? He looks near dead to me." Louis signaled for another beer and took a healthy swig. "I'll leave you two to deal with the aftermath, then. I'm far too sober for this."

John watched her wade through the crowd. "I don't think I've fully processed all this. You moved to Brighton to get away from me. Then you try to find reasons to return. Then, when I push you away you decide to be with my brother. My brother who has mooning over you from a distance for years."

"John, I-"

"No, I don't think I want to hear it. Really, you lot are right, and maybe, someday, I'll be able to come to grips with it, but right now? Right now I have to go strangle that frizzy haired yank." The barkeep got him a second beer and John began to move away from them before a thought stopped him. "I honestly wish I could say that I wish you two many years of happiness, but right now I would just rather be as far away from you as possible."

Then, after taking a deep draft, he raised his glass in a mock salute. "To the happy couple." The words were spat out as an angry mask covered his face. "Enjoy your treachery."

Ian watched his brother wade through the crowd toward the far corner. "So, I think that went better than expected."

Rose looked at him with wide, horrified eyes. "You must be joking." Ian raised his brows and she thought for a moment, tongue between her teeth. "Yeah, suppose you're right. Could have been much worse, really."

Ian ordered some chips and leaned against the bar. "All that has to be done now is proceeding with caution. We can't really put too much in front of him until enough time has passed. Too much too soon and he'll take off somewhere and he may as well be on another planet then."

Rose chuckled a little as Ian rolled his eyes at his brother's tendency to over dramatize. "Yeah, I've seen a bit of that. He took me on more than a few of those retreats, remember."

Ian looked his wife over. "I honestly agree with him a bit in some ways. There are times when I can't believe you're here, and we're where we are. Wasn't two months ago, I was certain I would die a bachelor because you weren't mine."

Rose leaned forward and gave him a delicate kiss. "I'm here, though, you'll have to get used to it eventually. Though, don't go and rush it. You're shock and awe leads to some very interesting mornings."

Ian laughed as Louis made her way back over. "So, neither of you are dead. Good sign, I take it?"

Rose giggled a bit and watched as she stole an open beer from a passing waitress' tray. "Oh, you're horrible." Louis shrugged and took swig. "So, how's Jeremy?"

"Gone. On top of getting the wrong idea he was really, and I mean _really_, boring." Louis turned her bottle a bit. "I mean, what about me says parties are my kind thing? Once or twice? Yeah, maybe, but every time we hung out! It took everything I had to try and continue the friendship as it was."

She heaved a sigh and looked around the pub. "He took it well, though. After he made of fool himself, first. I don't like begging and whining. If I did I would have stuck with my first boyfriend back in high school, or at least stayed in contact with him. Bunch of idiots, the lot of them."

Ian quirked a brow at her statement. "Are you referring to your rather small list of ex's? Or was that a blanket statement for all men."

"Not sure yet, all depends."

"On?"

"On who's picking up the tab tonight? I got it Wednesday. Rose got it Tuesday. So, who will be cover the tab, this week?"

Rose and Louis both sent teasing glances toward Ian. "Fine, I will. You two are far too spoiled. Pampered, the both of you."

Louis chuckled and stole a chip from their plate. "So, what do you think? Shots until I forget I can't sing and wonder up to the karaoke stage?"

Rose and Ian nodded profusely and were quick to demand brandy from the bar keep. "Drink up, Lou, you have a long night ahead of you."

Martha and Jake wondered over and watched as Louis took shot after shot. They didn't do this often, but when they did, Ian was always amazed at how much alcohol the tiny girl could consume. He encouraged Rose to join her and she finally began taking shots with only a little more prodding from Martha.

"So, this should be an interesting night." Donna startled Ian a bit as she nudged him over to make room for her to see the proceedings. "I don't see this ending well, do you?"

Ian observed the two women for a moment before finally meeting Donna's gaze.

"Nah!" They both shook their heads as they produced the same answer.

"So, Louis is going to be her usual fool self, and Rose?" Ian's eyes widened as he remembered what inebriated Rose was like. "Yeah, you've stepped in it this time, skinny boy."

"Well, isn't this just wizard?" Donna's hearty laugh met his ears. "Martha how could you help me talk her into this? Jake, stop egging them on! They're taking quite enough shots without your support." Jake just laughed and continued to cheer Rose on. "Everyone's against me."

Donna patted his back. "Yeah. But really, you had this coming. Hiding your marriage from us and all." Ian groaned and ran his hands through his hair as he was reminded of his brother's earlier toast. "Just a shot in the dark this, but I'm going to suggest that telling John life altering news when it doesn't benefit him is not something to make a habit of, yeah?"

"You're never going to let this night be lived down are you?"

"Well, it would have to be worth poking at you with." Ian allowed his weary feelings show. "Oh, yeah, I fully intend to have this night be a disaster of epic proportions. You will never live this down. I promise you."

Ian began serving himself shots. At Donna's exclamation of surprise he coughed out a laugh. "If you're going to torture me then I'm going to make sure I enjoy this night as well. And if I'm really lucky, I won't even remember it. Which, contrary to popular belief, I've come to learn softens the pointed nature of your jabs."

John watched from his corner as the group began to get thoroughly smashed and have a grand ol' time. The only joy he took from anything happening tonight was that his father wasn't among them, being all chummy with Louis. Or maybe he should start calling her Anna, like Jack did, just grind her gears. He didn't know if that was the case, but only Jack called her that so it was highly possible.

He looked down into his empty beer glass with a sigh.

"You know, you don't seem to be having much fun." He looked up to see River sliding into the seat across him. "So, I suppose this news isn't exactly ideal. That being said, after having reviewed the facts and applying logic, this may be the best outcome."

He scowled and tried to ignore the burning in his eyes as unbidden tears welled up. "Oh, really? Well, River, logic is bullshit. Logic dictates that I would be the one she would marry. Logic dictates that Louis would go by Anna instead of a boy's name. Logic dictates that she would be calling me repeatedly and demanding my attention after we had a night of fun. But are any of those things actually happening? No!"

River sighed and gave him a knowing look. "She's not out of your system, is she? Let it go, John. Honestly, I think it's time you possibly take your father's advice and start looking at dating people within your age group."

"Hold on, how did you know that he said that?"

She smirked and tapped her finger on his hand. "Spoilers." He swore under his breath and she snickered. "Seriously, though, I was coming to talk to you when I overheard your father. Now, I have a friend, she's very sweet. She's a nurse at a primary school but also a rather successful writer." John hesitated before seeing Louis and Rose rather tipsily giggle and have a good time with all of his friends and relatives. "Excellent. I'll set something up. Now, where is that oh, so amusing father of yours?"

"I honestly have no idea. I'm just glad he's not here, mucking around and being all chummy with people." He made a sickened sound and raised himself from his chair. "I'll just be going now."

Louis shuffled out of her management class and held her hand up to shield her eyes. She was beginning to regret not putting contacts in that morning, but really, she was still suffering from the effects of the absurd amounts of alcohol she'd consumed the night before. Rose was still asleep, from what she knew.

"Oh, god! Close the door woman, or are you trying to melt my brain?" She groaned watched as Ian restrained himself, just barely, from clawing out his own eyes. "What, what, what?"

"I'm moving back to the states after I complete my final term."


End file.
